HamishHudsonwh & Johnwwwatson
John was a fury of emotions as he sat in the cab. He was more pissed off than he'd felt in a long time, shocked, hurt, upset and every horrible emotion he could think of. His mind was trying hard to grasp on the events of tonight.
He'd gone to dinner with Mary and left Hamish alone in the flat -He was old enough and John knew that the boy could handle it- and taken Mary to a very nice restaurant. He had had every intent on proposing to her, on making her his wife and finally, finally moving on with his life.
The reappearance of Sherlock Holmes had changed that significantly.
Now here John was, with a smarting head and a dirty suit, sitting in the back of a cab as it pulled up to 221B Baker Street. He was so angry, so wound up, that he was barely able to focus on giving the cabby the money before he got out and stormed into the building.
Mary had chosen to go back to her own flat, so there was no one stopping John from shouting and complaining as soon as he walked into the flat. "That bloody wanker." He started, climbing up the steps. "How could he do that? He can't just show up and act like it's all one big bloody game!" He said and eventually rounded into the flat. John was unaware where Hamish was and, quite frankly, didn't care in his current state of mind. "'Oh my name's Sherlock Bloody Holmes and I'm just going to go play hide and seek for two fucking years!' Bloody goddamn arse. I should've broken his teeth." John continued his rampage as he hung up his coat.
